by Lucy Ryder
“You know what I think, Nate?” she said after a short silence during which she struggled with her battered emotions. She had to swallow past what felt like a huge shard of glass in her throat. “I think you use that stupid promise to evade the real issue here.” When he remained silent, she gave a tight laugh and continued, “For all your medals, for all your bravery and courage, you’re a coward. Too scared to let yourself care, let yourself be vulnerable to anyone, because they might leave you like your father did. Like Jack and your team did. Well,” she reminded him fiercely, “I’m still here.”
His answer was a whole lot of silence that had Frankie flinging at his head, “But, then, I guess you think no one can function without you around to protect them. Even from themselves.” The backs of her eyes stung and she swallowed the sob rising in her throat, threatening to cut off her breath and humiliate her.
She wouldn’t cry. Not in front of him. In fact, he wasn’t worth the swollen eyes, stuffy nose or blinding headache.
“Well, let me tell you something, Commander Big Shot,” she said fiercely. “I survived just fine without your ‘protection’ for the last twelve years, and I’ll survive the next fifty. So you can just scratch me off your Things-I-Have-to-Take-Care-Of list.” Her throat finally closed as she spun on her heel and left before she broke down.
Broke down and begged him to love her.
At the French doors, she paused and sucked in a steadying breath. With one hand on the wooden frame, she looked back over her shoulder. Nate hadn’t moved and the set of his wide shoulders was as tense and unapproachable as his attitude.
She firmed lips still tingling from that last kiss. “Just stay out of my life,” she said with quiet intensity. “I don’t need or want your protection.” Then she turned and walked away.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
FOR THE NEXT few days Nate kept telling himself that he’d done the right thing. He didn’t have the time or the space in his life for the responsibility of a woman who couldn’t—or wouldn’t—see how much keeping a promise to his best friend meant to him.
Jack had refused to believe that Nate would grow up to be like his father and even when he’d screw up, his friend would remind him that he wasn’t Tom Oliver.
Remind him that he could be anything he wanted.
Well, he’d wanted to be a Navy SEAL, be a part of a something that meant something more—brothers-in-arms fighting for a just cause. It had been a way to earn a few advanced engineering degrees and the pay had helped his mother make ends meet. What he’d never told anyone was that he’d decided it would give him discipline and goals—something his father had lacked.
But the cost had been high. Jack and too many of his brothers-in-arms had paid the ultimate price.
He missed the close bond he’d had with his SEAL team, but he didn’t miss having to deal with losing them. Didn’t miss having to hold them while they breathed their last.
Yet, even as he told himself he’d done the right thing by keeping his promise to Jack, he couldn’t get the look on Frankie’s beautiful face out of his head. The quick glint of tears ruthlessly suppressed. The stiff, proud back disappearing out the door.
Almost immediately he’d wanted to stop her because he’d hurt her—something he’d promised himself he’d never do—and when Frankie was hurt she almost always did something reckless.
He’d waited until the next day to call her but she didn’t answer or return any of his messages. He went to her house but it was locked up tight and her car was missing. Her partner Dale hadn’t heard from her either but, then, he hadn’t expected to as they both had a few days off. Nate then called Paige, because if anyone knew where Frankie was it would be the petite doctor. Paige, however, had been quick to deny knowing anything but Nate could tell she was lying. When he called her on it she told him, “I love you but you’re an idiot,” and disconnected.
Frustrated, he called Ty, whose first words were, “What did you do?”
“Me?” Nate’s tone was indignant. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You must have,” Ty said bluntly. “Frankie doesn’t just go off without telling anyone.”
“Frankie always goes off without telling anyone,” he reminded him.
“Not anymore. She always tells Paige.”
“She did tell Paige,” Nate pointed out impatiently. “Now, go be a man and get it out of your woman.”
“Are you insane?” Ty sounded scandalized. “I prefer sleeping with a soft, warm woman, thank you very much. Go find Frankie yourself and be prepared to beg.”
“What the hell, Ty?” Nate swore, frustration beating at his temples because he’d done nothing that required him to beg. You’d think people would appreciate the fact that he could keep a promise, that he was a responsible man. Unlike the other men in his family. “You let that sweet little doctor walk all over you?”
“Of course not.” His snorted then added in a low voice, “But she says you need to wake up and see what’s right under your nose. I’d listen to her, if I were you.”
“You’re a wuss,” Nate said with disgust, but he could hear Ty laughing as his friend disconnected.
Frustrated, he went to work on his deck, needing to finish installing the railings before someone got hurt.
She’s already hurt, numbskull.
Yep. He was scum and he felt really bad. Especially now that he knew exactly how she tasted and felt wrapped around him.
He cursed. Especially as it wasn’t going to happen again.
But if she wanted to go off and sulk, who was he to interfere? She’d told him to stay out of her life and that’s exactly what he intended to do. There were plenty of women in town who’d be more than happy to keep him warm at night. Women who weren’t wild and reckless and annoying.
Is that what you want? The voice in his head demanded.
“Yes,” he said out loud. “That’s exactly what I want.” But he knew he was lying. Maybe he wouldn’t allow himself to think about Frankie but if he was honest with himself, he didn’t want to be—couldn’t see himself—with any other woman. She’d told him to stay out of her life but that didn’t mean he couldn’t keep an eye on her from a distance.
Yeah. You’re certainly good at distance.
“Shut up,” he snarled.
Great. Now he was talking to the voices in his head. Voices that had become as annoying as the woman they were defending.
Maybe he should make an appointment to see a shrink or just get himself committed because he was clearly losing his mind.
So Nate pushed himself, hoping the physical labor would silence the voices and let him sleep without dreaming about Frankie. But working with his hands always left him with far too much time to think, and when a big storm hit the area he moved inside to work on the floor.
With nothing but the sound of the wind and rain, and the monotonous movements of the floor sander, all he could do was think.
About Frankie. About the little sounds she made when he was buried deep inside her tight body and the way she’d made sex not just fun but intense. About the way she laughed—completely without artifice and uncaring if people stared. He thought about the way she liked to hog the bed and the way he’d felt with her in his arms.
Like he was where he was meant to be. Like he was the hero she said she didn’t want.
“Are you waiting for the carpenter fairies to finish the job or are you mooning over a certain wild redhead who’s MIA?”
At the unexpected interruption, Nate’s instincts—honed through years of training and combat—reacted with split-second timing. He rose to his feet and spun toward the threat in one smooth move; nail gun locked and loaded for action.
He took one look at Ty lounging in the doorway and cursed. Nate hadn’t reacted like that in months, which told him he was losing it. Big time.
And he knew exactly whose fault it was.
Straightening from his combat-ready stance, he lowered his “weapon.”
“Do you have
a death wish?” he demanded for the second time that week, a bit shaky at the thought that he’d nearly shot his best friend. “I could have nailed you between the eyes a dozen times before you could blink,” he growled, shoving one hand through his hair and hoping the surgeon didn’t see the fine tremor in his fingers. “Didn’t you ever hear about knocking, or announcing your presence? Sneaking up on a SEAL is guaranteed to seal your fate.”
Ty lifted one dark eyebrow, his bright blue eyes gleaming with amusement. “Wow, I’m impressed,” he drawled, brushing raindrops from his dark hair and wandering over to inspect Nate’s handiwork. “Two puns in two sentences. And for your information I did knock, and call out, but you were too preoccupied with X-rated thoughts.”
“Who said they were X-rated?”
“The goofy, lovestruck look said it all.”
“I was frowning,” Nate pointed out.
Ty dropped down to run his hand over the satin-smooth floorboards. After a couple of beats he looked up and smirked. “Yep, definitely mooning.”
Nate snorted and folded his arms across his chest. “I don’t moon. Mooning is for saps like you.”
“Oh?” Ty straightened, regarding Nate politely. “Is that a Navy SEAL thing or a Nathan Oliver thing?”
“It’s a no…thing,” Nate growled, dropping his arms and heading for the doorway. “Just minding my own business.” He glared over his shoulder when Ty made a scoffing sound. “You want a beer, or what?”
Without waiting for a reply, he stomped into the kitchen and yanked open the refrigerator. By the time he’d pulled out two beers, Ty had joined him. He’d rolled up his sleeves and loosened his tie as though he intended staying a while.
“Why are you here again?” Nate asked, lobbing a beer through the air. Ty snagged it and twisted off the cap with his left hand. The scars on his right hand were still fresh and Nate knew the surgeon was hoping to regain complete use of his hand so he could resume surgery. “Don’t you have a fiancée to go irritate?”
“Paige’s working, so I thought I’d irritate you instead.” He lifted the bottle in a silent toast and took a deep pull, his eyes studying Nate. “It’s what buddies do.” He swallowed again and licked his lips. “I’d ask what crawled up your ass but since I’ve been there, I’ll give you a piece of advice I wish someone had given me.”
Nate gave a rough snort, telling himself that what he was experiencing was a reaction to all the unsolicited advice people kept giving him. It was the only reason his gut burned. The only reason he felt jittery, as though something bad was about to happen. “You’re hallucinating, Doc. Probably from sniffing too much happy gas.”
“You’re a funny guy, Nate,” Ty drawled. “But not too bright. At least, not when it comes to Frankie.”
“Frankie has nothing to do with this.”
“Frankie has everything to do with this but you’re just too stubborn to admit it.”
Nate casually leaned against the counter and drawled, “Admit what?”
“That you’ve got it bad and you’re too scared to face it.”
“What?” He gave a hard laugh and lifted his beer, pointing the bottle at Ty. “That’s complete and utter bull, and you know it. I’m not scared, I’m—”
“In love with her.” Ty nodded. “Yep, I know.”
“Are you out of your freaking mind? I love her, yes. Like a sister. But in love?” He made an impatient sound in the back of his throat and shook his head. Because what he felt for Frankie defied description. It couldn’t possibly be love.
Could it?
Lust and deep affection, yes…but love? He shook his head emphatically. Nope. No way. “You’re insane,” he growled, unsure who he was addressing, but just in case it was Ty he added, “I’d have to be certifiable to love a woman like that. She’s annoying and opinionated and she makes me crazy.”
“Good crazy or bad crazy?”
That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?
He growled, “She frustrates me so much sometimes that I’m tempted to throttle her, so…yep, definitely bad crazy.”
Ty’s face made it clear he didn’t buy it and neither, apparently, did the voice in Nate’s head.
You want to wrap your hands around her all right, the voice taunted. But not to throttle her.
Ty must have agreed with the voice because he snorted and stared pointedly at Nate. “Yeah…” he smirked “…I can totally see how bad crazy she makes you.” He made some kissy noises that ratcheted Nate’s annoyance up a couple of hundred notches and made him grit his teeth.
“What are you, twelve?”
Ty snickered before sobering. “It’s the best kind of bad, Nate. And if you’re really lucky, a woman as fiercely loyal as Frankie comes into your life and has your back.”
“Have you forgotten how wild and reckless she is?” Nate demanded, because the thought of him and Frankie…well, it terrified him. “She’s a disaster waiting to happen. Just looking out for her is a full-time gig.”
“Who says you need to?” Ty asked mildly. “Seems she’s done just fine on her own.”
The words, spoken by Frankie just a few days earlier, made him scowl. “I don’t need that kind of aggravation in my life,” he argued curtly. “Frankie isn’t like Paige. She’s not a comfortable woman to be around.” Hell. Just thinking about her made him damned uncomfortable. The kind of uncomfortable that tempted him to push her up against the nearest wall and put his hands and lips all over her. It was why he needed to stay away from her. “In fact, she can be downright belligerent and…and messy.”
Ty grinned. “That’s women for you.”
Maybe, but Frankie wasn’t like other women. She was wild and fiery…and so passionate he had a hard time pushing her from his mind.
His breath whooshed out.
Could he really be in love? With Frankie?
That would be insane and Nate had always prided himself on his cool rationality. But what he felt for Frankie wasn’t rational.
Life with her would never be boring. She was too vibrant for that. Too full of life. Too stubborn. They’d fight because she was so…so contrary and opinionated, but the makeup sex would be spectacular.
“She saved your life, remember?” Ty pointed out, unknowingly slicing to the very heart of what really bothered Nate. Exposing his weakness, his secret shame. “Not the other way around. Or have you forgotten?” Ty demanded. “Because if you have, I still have that video.” He pulled out his phone and waggled it. “Wanna see?”
“No. I do not want to see,” Nate growled irritably, taking a swig of beer in the hope that it would drown out the sudden realization that he’d resented her for besting him at his own game.
She’d rescued him—instead of the other way around. The way it had always been between them. The way he was comfortable with. He didn’t know how to deal with this Frankie, the Frankie who rose without hesitation and threw herself at him. He recalled in perfect detail the horror and devastation in the green eyes locked with his when she’d realized that he was going over; the memory of how her body had felt wrapped around his as they were hoisted into the chopper, and the cuts and bruises she’d sustained saving him.
And not once had she reminded him of it. Not like he always seemed to do.
“I don’t need to see it to be reminded of that night.” He dreamed about it. But in his nightmares their roles were reversed and every time she slipped through his fingers to disappear into the black abyss below. He’d wake drenched in sweat, his heart pounding in his chest and the pain of desolation echoing in his soul.
“The guys at the station remind me often enough, thank you very much.”
“Yeah,” Ty drawled. “I can see why you’d find that so unsettling.”
“What exactly do you mean?” Nate demanded.
“It means that you liked being a SEAL because you got to do all the saving. Frankie’s right, you do have a hero complex.”
“That’s just bull and in case you’ve forgotten, I’m
no longer a SEAL.”
“No, you’re a coastie. Apples and pears are still fruit, Nate. You’re the man sworn to protect and care for everything and everyone around you—your mom, your sister, your country, your teammates… Frankie. It proves to everyone that you’re not your father.”
“I never had to prove that to anyone,” he said curtly, the conversation beginning to really annoy him.
Why, because it’s the truth?
“No, just yourself,” Ty agreed mildly. “We’ve always known what you could never see. Just because you share his DNA, it doesn’t mean you’re going to wake up one morning and suddenly become Tom Oliver.”
“I know that,” Nate snapped, then sighed tiredly. He scrubbed his hands over his face before admitting, “I can’t love Frankie… I promised Jack.”
Ty’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. “You promised him you’d never love her?”
“Buddy rule number one—sisters are off limits. But that’s not what I meant,” he said wearily. “I promised Jack I’d look out for her—keep her out of trouble. I can’t mess with Frankie and keep my promise to Jack.”
“Then don’t.”
“Don’t what?” he growled impatiently. “Don’t keep my promise? Because I can tell you, I am not my father.”
“Don’t be a moron, Nate. I meant don’t mess with her.”
“But you just said—”
“Jack always knew you loved her,” Ty drawled with a glint of amusement.
“Wait. What? She was thirteen, for God’s sake. I didn’t even know I loved her until—”
“You were like brothers,” Ty reminded him. “Of course he wanted you to look out for her. But before he died, he knew that you were in love with her. He told me.”
Nate’s jaw dropped open. “What? That’s cra—”
His instinctive denial was interrupted by Ty’s phone.
Ty’s mouth curled into a sappy grin as he answered. The look of intimacy, of shared laughter and history told Nate who it was. It also made him feel just a little bit jealous because it was what he wanted too.